An Age of Turmoil
by Onar
Summary: War looms on the horizon and Midgard faces its greatest crisis, long before the adventures of princess Alicia. Will the wariors of this time manage to become heroes and reach their goals or will war claim them all? An einherjar story
1. A Time to Remember

**_A/N:_** Since we only get the backstory of the einherjar in Valkyrie Profile 2, I decided to write a story about them. It revolves around the time of the most wars,after 570 C.C. I will make OCs from time to time, but only because it's needed, and they will play minor roles, in case you're worried about Sues. This story focuses completely on the einherjar. I will try to keep them in character from what I have gathered from their backstories and battle quotes. Each chapter will probably center on a different character, to view every angle of the war. There will be NO yaoi or yuri in this story. Also, note that english is not my first language and my first language is nothing like english, so I might make mistakes. Feel free to review!!

**_Chapter 1:_**

**_A Time to Remember_**

**_Capital of the Arkdain Kingdom, Year 566 C.C._**

The city was unusually busy. The last traces of melting snow were being swept from the streets by the shopkeepers. It was the time of year when the city became filled with travellers, after the harsh winter. Although the capital of the Arkdain Kingdom was close to the sea, the winter was still chilly. In spite of the climate here being much warmer than Crell Monferaigne located in the east or Gerabellum in the south, there had been tons of snow this year. However, after the winter period, shops were finally able to refill their stock thanks to the overwhelming amount of merchants. Trading flourished in Arkdain, mainly because of a type of special crystal which grew only there.

''Let's go!! Come on, Fraudir!!''

A blonde boy, no more than thirteen years old, was brandishing a long, wooden replica of a sword. The weapon was barely appropriate for his size, and he certainly wouldn't be able to support a real sword of the same size. Fraudir, a girl with brown curly hair standing opposite to him, was even smaller and looked younger, but the wooden sword she held wasn't as disproportionate to her size. A handful of other children had formed a small circle around them, rooting for one or the other, as the two were preparing to fight. A nearby shopkeeper glared at the group and snorted, before resuming his sweeping. However, the other shopkeepers didn't show any sign of annoyance, as they were used to the small ones who were trying to train to one day become soldiers in the king's army and serve their country. The road that led to the castle gates seemed to echo with the clashing of wooden swords and high-pitched voices that had been trying to master the art of swords (in their own way), for over a decade now.

Although the sword Fraudir used would normally only require one hand, she was holding it tightly with both hands. She knew Aaron was strong, but she was confident in her skills as well. ''No problem at all.'', she taunted him.

Aaron let out something like a war cry and charged. Fraudir was ready and used her sword to block his attack with her blade. It was just like him to attack head on..... She stepped aside, dodging the attack but he almost immediately turned around, this time trying to slash her horizontally. It was very easy to duck and avoid him, as she was shorter and faster than him. Deciding it was time for a counterattack, she tried to slash him in the legs, but Aaron blocked her attack with his blade. They struggled for a few moments, until Aaron pushed her back and charged again. Although a little taken aback by that, Fraudir stepped aside clumsily and Aaron found himself charging towards.....no one. Fraudir was right behind him, but found it unfair to attack him from the back. However, the moment he turned around she charged at him at full speed. Aaron wasn't prepared for this and barely managed to block her with his sword. But at the next moment, he seemed to loosen his grip and grunted. On his right arm, a big, black bruise extending from his elbow to his shoulder, held him back. Knowing he was about to lose, he made a desperate attempt to throw her off and pushed her back with whatever strength he had.

Fraudir's weapon left her hands and was shot in midair. After spinning for a few seconds, it landed away from them, in the middle of the street. Fraudir was left bare-handed and fell back on the ground, from the force of his attack.

Everyone looked around, from one to the other, evidently confused by what had happened.

''Y-you won!'', said Fraudir, with a wide smile, still on the ground. ''You're really good, Aaron!!''

She got to her feet and went to pick up her sword, leaving her confused friend with a group of younger, excited kids who were now pestering him to tell them how he had managed to win. Aaron could make a good teacher one day. But his dream was different. He wanted to become a knight and fight in war and serve the king. Fraudir, on the other hand, wasn't sure. Her parents always encouraged him to follow that path, while they said that she would make a wonderful lady of the aristocracy. Grown-ups always said ''war is brutal and unbefitting of a lady like yourself, Fraudir''. But what does ''brutal'' mean? When she asked about the word, they would always hush her and tell her not to ask questions.

She finally spotted the wooden sword . The street was already packed with traders heading for the shops. She ran and tried to pick it up but a hand bigger than hers swooped it up skillfully.

Fraudir raised her eyes. A tall woman was standing over the ten year-old, holding the wooden sword in one hand. She was pretty. Her hair was a light blue colour and she had kind-looking eyes. She wore a grey armour that looked like it could use some polishing and grey boots to match. Although she looked like a giant in Fraudir's eyes, she wasn't any older than sixteen.

''You should be careful with this.'', said the woman and handed the wooden sword back to the girl. Her voice was soft and sounded kind. Fraudir took it back, but her gaze remained on the woman.

''Fraudir?'', came a voice from behind her. Aaron and the rest of the kids had caught up to her. They were all staring at the woman in awe, for no apparent reason.

'''Lady, are you a swordsman?'', asked a little boy called Jin, pointing at the scabbard strapped around her waist.

''She's a woman, stupid!'', whispered Mena, the smart, down-to-midgard girl of the company. ''She can't be a swordsMAN!''

''W-well, that's beside the point Mena....''

''I am.'', answered the woman kindly.

''Wow, could you show us some of your moves?! Can you, can you?'', pleaded Jin excitedly and many of the kids nodded vigorously in the idea, but Mena had to interfere and ruin it again.

''Jin, she obviously doesn't have the time, so let's not bother her......''

''Yes, why not.'', smiled the woman politely, surprising everyone. She turned to Fraudir again. ''May I borrow your sword?''

At first Fraudir didn't understand as she was completely taken aback by the woman's approach. What sword was she talking about? Then, she realised the woman was refering to the wooden substitute of a sword she was holding. She handed it to her, curious as to why she wanted it, and ran back to her company, to give the woman some space.

The blue haired lady executed a series of complex moves that involved spinning her sword, dodging blows from non-existent enemies and generally required her to wield her sword skillfully. She was very nimble and managed to make her moves gracefully, as if she was dancing. Her ''sword dance'', as Fraudir dubbed it in her mind, earned her many ''wows'' from the kids and the curious glances of many onlookers. When she finished, the company started clapping and whistling in admiration of her skills. She seemed flattered.

''Lady, are you in the army?'', asked Jin yet again.

''Well, not yet. But I'm on my way to enlist.'', she answered.

''Wow, they're definitely going to let you join! You're amazing!''

The rest of the kids made comments of agreement and continued commending the woman's skills. She beckoned Fraudir, who went to her immediately, unable to hide her admiration. The woman brought her lips next to Fraudir's ears.

''You let him disarm you on purpose.'', she whispered.

And as the wooden sword was slipping into her little hands, and as the kids were waving the blue haired woman goodbye and wishing her luck, Fraudir stood watching her, befuddled. How had she known?

*****************************

''Fraudir, have you finished with your dinner?''

''Huh?''

Fraudir felt her mind wrenched back to reality by her mother's voice. She was sitting at the luxurious evening table, eating some sort of supposedly expensive soup. Actually ''eating'' wasn't the right word, since she hadn't taken a single gulp but simply kept stirring her soup unappetizingly. Apparently, she had been staring into space, lost in thought.

''Well, I see you have not laid a finger on your soup! That is truly disappointing!! Your father will be returning in a few days. It won't do for him to find his daughter has grown as thin as a scarecrow now, would it?'', her mother scolded her.

Eat THAT thing?! Even if Fraudir was starving, she wouldn't touch it. It looked disgusting, as it resembled more a mixture of mud and spaghetti rather than a soup. HOW was she expected to eat it?

''Have no fear in consuming this delicious treat! I myself cooked it.'', said the mother. That certainly explained its muddy appearance.

''I don't want to eat this.'', complained Fraudir.

''What????!!!'', reacted the mother angrily. ''And just what do you mean by that, little lady?!! You are inobedient, Fraudir!! I saw you talking to those lowborn children again today. And wielding a weapon, too!!! That is unacceptable for a lady like yourself!! Aaron can do that, but not you. You are heiress to our noble bloodline. What business have you with the common?''

''Well, if I don't learn how to fight, how will I be able to defend myself?'', retorted the girl, trying to avoid the whole noble-common prattle.

''You needn't learn such things! You are a noble! You will have servants and possibly a knight to protect you!''

A sudden knock on the door brought the conversation to an abrupt halt.

''Ah, that servant of mine is away tonight..... I will have to open the door!!'', snorted the woman, as if doing that was inappropriate for a noble. ''Fraudir, start eating!!!''

As her mother headed for the door, Fraudir grabbed the chance and quickly emptied the contents of her plate in a nearby pot. She had the slightest impression the plant itself was complaining for the unhealthy mixture.

''Ah, Keira, will you join us for dinner tonight?'', Fraudir heard her mother say, as she walked back into the dining room, now accompanied by another elegantly dressed woman.

''Were you the one that cooked......?'', asked her friend cautiously, when she spotted the muddy soup in her plate.

''Oh, yes. Though it does not befit a woman of my class, I decided to put my cooking skills into use. And it appears I am quite talented. Oh, Fraudir how did you eat it all so fast?'', asked her mother suddenly.

Fraudir tried to come up with an excuse, but it wasn't necessary.

''Oh, I see!! Once you tasted how delicious it was, you just couldn't hold yourself!! Isn't that right?'', smiled the mother and her daughter nodded in agreement. ''I daresay this masterpiece tastes like Ambrosia, the very treat of the gods!!!!'', she boasted again.

''If the gods ate this kind of thing, they would no longer be immortal.'', Fraudir whispered to herself.

''Did you say something dear?'', the woman called from across the table.

''No.'', answered Fraudir quickly. ''May I go to my room?''

With her mother's consent, she got up from her chair and left the dining room. However, she had no intention of going to her room. She headed for the kitchen and opened the back door as quietly as possible.

It was even chillier now that darkness had fallen. The magically lit lamps faintly illuminated the back alley. And then she saw him. Beyond the fence that separated their houses, Aaron was practising under the moonlight with a real sword.

_As I thought._

She had been suspecting that Aaron was practising with a real blade for some time now. However, it was too heavy for him to wield properly and he made many clumsy moves, often losing his balance. Apparently, the bruise she had spotted earlier on his arm was a ''side effect'' of his training.

Although Aaron was an aristocrat as well, both his parents were simple and held no contempt towards commoners. His father being a knight in the army, Aaron was expected to follow the same path and worked hard to live up to everyone's expectations. It was just like him not to tell her about it so she wouldn't worry or hold back when they were practising together. Quiet. Low profile. Stubborn. And that's why she had let him win.

However, SHE was destined for nobility and didn't need to pick up arms. Others would have to protect her. But was it really all about her? What she wanted to see, was a time when no one would think of the poor the way her mother did. Could she really do all that without knowing how to use a weapon? The woman she had met this morning was holding her weapon firmly to fight. She could protect both herself and others. How would Fraudir save herself if she had to fight alone? And how would she save anyone else if she couldn't just save herself?

No. She had to learn how to fight. It didn't matter what her mother said, her father would surely listen. She didn't want to be only a noble, she also wanted to be a warrior. If she had to rebel against her mother, she would. For herself, for others and for what she believed in.

That was the day she came up with it.

_Those who cannot save themselves, cannot save others._

**_Arkdain Kingdom, Count Leon's Domain, Year 574 C.C._**

Fraudir, now 18 years old, was waiting for her superior under the shade of Count Leon's manor. Today was a very important day. Soldiers were roaming around the manor and the surrounding gardens, awaiting Lady Richelle's orders. The troops were soon going to head for the city of Gerabellum, where war had been raging for quite some time.

After a series of fierce arguments with her mother, Fraudir had managed to convince her father to teach her the fundamentals of combat. For the past two years, she had been a member of the Knights of the White Lily, Count Leon's royal guard. She had decided to join Count Leon' troops because he looked like a more reliable leader than the king. The count controlled the western part of the kingdom and greatly influenced political decisions. There had been a debate between him and the king as to who would be sent to the front line to aid Gerabellum.

For some reason, Fraudir had spent these past few days reminiscing. With war looming in the horizon, she was hoping to fight in order to end the bloodshed. Although the details were still unclear, it appeared that the conflict had began without warning. Such an act was despicable and it had plagued Gerabellum for four years. It was only natural for Arkdain to answer its call for help, since Paltierre and Dipan had already unofficially joined the struggle.

At last, Fraudir caught a glimpse of Lady Richelle's blue hair as she walked out of the mansion's front gate. Rushing to her side, she realised the older woman had already changed into her armour.

''What news, Lady Richelle? Have they reached a decision yet?'', she asked as they walked down the garden path to rally the rest of the troops.

''I am to head for Gerabellum tomorrow. My soldiers and I will represent Count Leon in this conflict.'', answered Richelle, sounding somewhat worried.

''So the king does not object to his brother representing Arkdain?''

''Not quite.'', sighed Richelle.''His Majesty will dispatch his own force, the Knights of the Bloodsword. It appears we will have to fight together with them.''

''Are you worried?'', asked Fraudir. ''Could they hold us back?''

''Not really. I have heard he is more than a capable commander. We could make a powerful team.''

''So we are departing tomorrow?'', asked Fraudir.

''Yes.'', answered Richelle. She stopped walking rather abruptly and looked at Fraudir. ''But I'm afraid......you cannot come.''

For a moment, Fraudir was sure she had misheard. But when Richelle kept staring at her with an uneasy expression on her face, she realised she was serious.

''But why not? I am a proud member of the Knights of the White Lily!! I can support you in battle! I am perfectly capable of fighting! Why not let me join you?!''

She felt neglected, pushed aside. Why was her commander suddenly saying that? Lady Richelle had praised her many times for her skills in battle, and had even trained Fraudir herself. She had also been Fraudir's inspiration, she had motivated her to join the army. Why leave her behind as if she was some kind of nuisance?!

''You are a rebellious type, Fraudir.'', smiled the older woman kindly, as if she was expecting that reaction. ''And someday, I hope you will do something to help this kingdom. But in battle, my first priority is to do what I can for my soldiers.''

''_War and death walk hand in hand. But you walk alone.''_

Fraudir seemed to calm down after hearing that. Could it be that Lady Richelle was trying to safeguard her life.....?

''You are still young and full of potential. If something happens to me, I want you to be my successor. I'm sure Count Leon will pick you as well. That is why I want you to stay here and let me fight this battle.''

Richelle headed for the silver gates of the manor, leaving Fraudir behind to think. No sooner had she taken a few steps, than she heard the brunette say:

''Lady Richelle. May I ask you one question?''

Richelle avoided looking at her but nodded.

''Eight years ago, how did you know that I had let Aaron win?''

Richelle supressed the laughter that spontaneously came to her mouth and answered enigmatically:

''I just did.''

As she watched Richelle shrink in the distance, Fraudir thought that she would be happy to have an older sister like her. She would try not to be rebellious for now. There would come a time when she would have to rebel against corruption, of that she was sure. But it was not now.

Little did any of them know, Midgard would soon be thrown in a turmoil it had never faced before.

* * *

Disclaimer:I do not own Valkyire Profile.

* * *


	2. Black Thoughts and a Red Hill

**_Chapter 2:_**

**_Black Thoughts and a Red Hill_**

**_Capital of the Arkdain Kingdom, 574 C.C._**

''Your Majesty, we are ready to depart for Gerabellum at your command.''

The blonde general knelt before his king, his head bent low. He knew the king would dismiss him quickly, for the castle was unusually busy this afternoon. Many were seeking an audience with their ruler and besides, all preparations for him to head to battle were done. Informing the king personally was just a matter of formality, since he had already issued commands.

''Very well.'', said king Crosell. ''You will leave tomorrow morning, accompanied by my brother's royal guard. They are on their way here as we speak. Also, their commander appears to be a woman. I expect you will not let her overshadow you, captain Roland.''

He then gestured him to leave. Roland took a bow and left as quickly as possible, for he felt the oppressive atmosphere inside the room. The contemptuous way the king always spoke about women made him feel uncomfortable. However, as he tried to exit the throne room, he found his way blocked by a dark skinned man in black robes. They were oddly decorated by golden lines and red jewels, giving him an air of mystery AND vanity.

''Ah, you must be general Roland.'', said the man. His voice was gruff and Roland thought he could detect the slightest bit of sarcacism in his words. '''Tis a pleasure to meet the captain of the Knights of the Bloodsword.''

''And you are?'', he asked back. He found it hard to keep his tone casual as he felt uneasy for some reason.

''I am merely the lord of the Gorhla region, Khanon. I have an audience with the king. And now, if you will excuse me, it would not do to keep him waiting any longer.....''

Roland stepped aside to let the man pass. His black robes were a garment often wore by either sorcerers or priests, or in some cases, necromancers. Perhaps it was because of that, or by the tone of his voice that Roland felt he was somewhat toady and even sly. This sensation was reinforced when he realised a group of people dressed in similar clothes were wondering in the castle halls. Apparently, Khanon had brought his escort with him. It was bothersome to see so many people wearing black, skulking around the place, as it gave the castle an air of mourning. He felt as if they were grieving for battles not yet fought, telling him not to go. He tried to put it aside for now. It was all just a silly idea of his. These people weren't mourning for anything, they were just showing their support for Khanon. He hoped he would never see the castle dyed black, with flags and and coffins, like when the king died.

He could not help but feel they were extending this helping hand to Gerabellum only to appease the public. The late king's decision to hand the throne to his son Crosell had been disputed by many. He was considered inexperienced and unfit to be a monarch. Therefore, king Crosell had tried to establish his position firmly, so as to prove that wrong. Some suspected that he had agreed to send both Count Leon's troops and his own to fight together, in order to show the people of Arkdain that there was no crisis between the members of the royal family. As a strategist, Roland admired that course of action. By uniting their forces, the king would not only discourage the dangerous usurpers that sought to take the throne, but also silence the tongues that accused him of despotism. Roland himself thought of the king as a bit of a misogynist, but other than that he could become a fine ruler.

It would appear that fate had decided to play tricks with him that day, for he spotted yet another site to disturb him. A lone woman, whose face wore the saddest and most desperate expression he had ever seen. Her clothes were simple; an old, grey dress with multiple black layers beneath her waist and a discoloured brown shawl wrapped around her arms was all she wore. The two locks of starw-coloured hair that somewhat covered her face were not enough to conceal her look of pure sorrow. A woman dressed so poorly would never be granted an audience with the king. What was she lurking around the castle for.....?

''Do you need something?''

''.......I'm looking for a sorcerer.....''. Even her voice sounded like it was about to break. ''Perhaps......he shall be the one....to vanquish my sadness...''

Roland found it hard to understand what she meant, but she didn't pay much attention to him. It was remarkable how out of place she seemed. Not just because of her poor clothing. It felt as if her mind was........somewhere else. Nevertheless, he decided he should help her.

''You could-''

''Ah, Lady Lyseria!''

Roland had no idea how in Odin's name the black-garbed men had managed to approach them without making a sound. They appeared to have been looking for this woman. Judging by the golden lines on their robes, they were also part of Khanon's escort.

''Please, forgive us.'', apologised the tallest of the men, taking a deep bow. ''The Lord Khanon had to leave Gorhla to attend to some matters. But of course, you knew he would be here, did you not? Let us take you to him.''

The woman called Lyseria glanced at Roland one last time, before she followed the men. For some reason, her eyes revealed sympathy towards him. Roland found it strange. He was the last person in Midgard that anyone should feel sorry for. He was the captain of the Knights of the Bloodsword, crown defenders of the Arkdain kingdom. In terms of wealth and social status he was both rich and respected within the aristocracy. The only thing his life lacked was a proper spouse. He just hadn't found the right woman yet.

So, why did that Lyseria look as if she pitied him? And yet, one thing struck him as odd even more ........

''How the Hel did she know Khanon was here......?''

*****************************

Dawn found Roland and his troops stationed outside of the iron gates of the capital. By the decree of the king, they were to wait for Count Leon's troops there and then decide the course of their journey. Of course, he had already formulated a rough pattern on his map but found it prudent to ask the other commander's opinion on it.

''Sir, they're here!'', shouted one of his soldiers.

Roland rode on his horse swiftly to the front of his soldiers. They were a very small force, approximatelly a hundred men out of the original two hundred that composed the Knights of the Bloodsword. He was relieved to find their comrades were pretty much the same numbers. Neither party was willing to send more soldiers without guarantee of compensation.

Count Leon's troops, unlike his, included women. He was unsurprised by that, since Count Leon's notions about the sexes differed from those of the king. And as he had predicted, their commander was a woman as well, and a pretty one. Roland dismounted from his horse first, mostly for the sake of chivalry.

''I am Roland, captain of the Knights of the Bloodsword.'' He extended his hand in a friendly manner.

''It is an honour, Sir Roland.'', she said politely, shaking his hand. ''I am Richelle, commander of the Knights of the White Lily.''

''Likewise, Lady Richelle.'' Although her silver-blue hair was beautiful, Roland couldn't help but notice that her armour......lacked pants.

_At least her armour is not black,_ he found himself thinking and then he remembered he should stop having those distracting thoughts about black colours and such.

''It would appear we will be fighting together from now on.'', she stated unnecessarily, when Roland didn't say anything. Maybe she was trying to lighten the mood....?

''I have studied a possible course we could follow to reach Gerabellum. Would you care to see it?'' They shouldn't waste anymore time on pleasantries. He would get plenty of chances to deduce what manner of person she was later. The woman agreed.

Gerabellum was on the far southwestern end of the continent. Therefore, it should take about three weeks to get there. They both agreed they should travel light to hasten their trek, but that meant they wouldn't be able to carry many food supplies with them. Thus, they would have to stop in every town they found to sustain their troops. With that in mind, they would head for the village of Coriander first. It had been a prosperous town up until 300 years ago, but now, it was just a small village that belonged to the Gorhla region and, consequently, Arkdain. After that, they would follow the mountain lane and head for Camille Village, in the territory of Artolia.

It was after this point that arguments began. Roland found it best to go to the city of Artolia and go through Artolia pass, a narrow path between the mountains to the Gerabellum region, which led directly to Lassen. Richelle disagreed, saying it was a tracherous path to take, stressing how they didn't know which side of the war Artolia supported. She suggested they took a route around Camille Hill and then go through the forest between the two mountain-ranges to reach Lassen. It was a safer way, but it would be more time consuming.

''Can we just go to Camille and then decide on this?'', said Richelle, after many disagreements. ''There's a good chance battle will be waging there too, by the time we arrive.''

Roland disliked the idea of travelling until a certain point and then improvising. He liked being prepared. But he had to admit she had a point, AND he didn't want any more quarrels with her. She had seemed quiet at first, but when it came to safety matters, she proved to be very persistent.

''Yes, let's go. Soldiers, move out!''

**_Camille Hill, 574 C.C._**

''I shall not retreat!!''

The sun's final rays shed a light on the mercenary's face. His cuts and bruises were nothing when compared to the sight around him. Blood. Dead bodies. Camille Hill had been dyed red.

His enemy, a man clad in pitch-black armour, wielded an enormous sword pointed directly at him. They were five metres apart. It was the first time the mercenary had ever crossed swords with someone so powerful. However, they were both exhausted after an entire day of fighting without stopping to take a breath. Even so, he didn't plan to give up. He would fight to the end, for the sake of the person he wished to protect.

''Fall back! We have to cut our losses!!'', sounded a voice across the hill. It came from the ranks of his opponents. Could the battle be over for today.....?

The man in black armour turned to leave, but before he did, he dragged his finger across his neck and pointed at the mercenary one last time. The mercenary didn't falter. His enemy was the strong and silent type and thought he could threaten him, but he wasn't afraid. He had been through worse. Much worse.

But now that both forces retreated, he would go back too. Blood was dripping from his long, brown hair, because of a superficial cut on his forehead. He tried to walk, but it was difficult. He had hurt his leg somewhere. Limping carefully and trying not to step on any of the bodies around him, he left the scarlet painted hill behind him.

*****************************

The middle-aged woman sighed and closed the eyes of the man who had died moments ago. It had been a difficult day. The Chooser of the Slain must have worked overtime today, after the fierce battle that waged. The encampment was filled with injured soldiers and the dead bodies lay outside, waiting to be set on fire. Normally, they would bury them, but there were just so many. If they didn't dispose of the corpses soon, they would die out of illness.

It was just so wrong..... She was a nurse, yes, with knowledge on healing techniques and herbs. But four years ago, if anyone had told her she would be nursing men who fought to defend Gerabellum, in an encampment outside of Lassen, she would laugh. But now.......Out of a single attack, which commenced without warning, war was waging. And yet......why did the rest of Midgard refuse to acknowledge it?

Dipan and Paltierre had come to aid them, and Lassen of course assisted Gerabellum as its neighbour. But their forces were just not enough. They had to resort to hiring mercenaries. She suspected that was one of the reasons they couldn't win. Mercenaries fought for their own profit and usually had no morals, so they were unfit to defend a country, in her opinion.

''Ehlen...where's Ehlen?''

The squeaky, childish voice made the woman jump off her chair. It came as a shock to hear that voice in this place.

''Crescent!!'', shouted the woman, and, as expected, she found the small, blonde girl with chubby cheeks staring at her from the entrance of the tent. ''What are you doing-How did you come here?!!''

''I followed the smell.'', said the twelve year old girl, and pointed outside. ''It stinks.''

Apparently, the countless corpses that had been piled outside, had already started to reek. The woman rushed to the child and wrapped a woolen coat over her, pushing her gently inside the tent.

''Serena, where is Ehlen?'', asked the girl again.

Now what was she supposed to say....? If she told her Ehlen wasn't here yet, she would probably make her cry. ''...He'll be here soon, Crescent. But you should go back now, okay? Because I have to take care of some people, hm?''

''No!'', she objected categorically. ''I'll stay here until he comes!''

And she folded her arms, installing herself on the floor. It didn't look like she would ever move if she didn't see Ehlen. Crescent was so stubborn......She was supposed to be staying in Lias's place, but she had snuck out. Lias was the lord of Lassen and a well respected man. For the duration of the war, he had offered a number of his barns as a place to house refugees from Gerabellum. Serena was staying there with Crescent and somewhat took care of her. She had come with the mercenary Ehlen, a year after the initial attack on Gerabellum. Although Ehlen had refused to tell Serena any details about their past, Serena knew for a fact that Crescent was from Gerabellum and that she had met Ehlen under some strange circumstances. Nevertheless, Ehlen was the only person Crescent showed affection towards and he taught her how to fight, now and then. Serena disliked mercenaries in general, but she was friendly with Ehlen, mainly because he fought for some other reason besides money.

Serena had to spend the following hour feeling very uncomfortable. Treating wounds that often involved displaced organs and tons of blood with a twelve year old watching, was certainly not nice. Crescent didn't seem particularly fazed though. All she did was wrap the coat around her arms tighter from time to time. It was creepy seeing a child reacting so indifferently at the sight of casualties, and Serena was relieved when she heard her shout:

''He's here! Ehlen's here!''

She jumped up from the floor and ran out of the tent, returning with a man in grey armour. Now, GREY was just a figure of speech. With that much blood staining it, it looked red now. The man was limping a little and his face looked badly scarred.

''Ehlen!'', exclaimed Serena and rushed to his side. With a little help from Crescent, she sat him down on what she used as a bed. Letting Ehlen recover his breath, she picked up a few bandages and stitches. Crescent was sitting beside him, staring at him with her big blue eyes.

''Ehlen.....you won't die, will you?''

Ehlen smiled reassuringly. ''Don't worry, I'm fine. Just....a little tired.'' He managed to sit up, grunting and clutching his chest. ''But you should go back to Lias's place. He must be worried if you snuck out.''

Crescent averted her eyes from him, looking a little ashamed of herself. ''I wanted to see you.'', she said apologetically. ''That's why I snuck out.''

Of course, Lias didn't even know Crescent. They only said that to make her feel ashamed and go back. It worked on Crescent, especially when Ehlen said it.

''It's alright, I know.'' He gave her a fatherly smile. ''Just go back to Lias for now. I'll be fine.'', he added, when he saw her pouting.

''Fine.'', she minced. ''I'll come practice another day.''

Ehlen nodded and Crescent went to Serena.

''I'll go pick flowers tomorrow. Will you come with me?'', she asked looking up.

''Uh..., I don't have time, I'll be working until tomorrow.'', she answered. ''I'll come another day, okay?'' Crescent didn't say anything else.

Serena, now alone with Ehlen, helped him remove his chestplate and started stitching some of his injuries. None of them would be lethal, but he had lost quite a bit of blood. He groaned a few times, but he didn't complain. He never complained much about anything, anyway.

''Rough day?'', she asked while she was bandaging his leg. His knee had been damaged.

''There's many of them. But I shall kill them one by one if I have to.''

''Reckless. If you're not careful, I might not be able to to stitch these next time.'', she scolded him. The stench of blood on him was very intense.

''I've been through worse.'' , he said and grunted. ''Do you really have to tighten it like that?''

''If you don't want permanent damage on your knee.'', she scowled and got up. She tossed him a clean towel. ''Clean yourself up.''

''Nah, most of it is dry now. I'll probably need a bath to get it off......''

''Clean yourself up!'', she barked. ''With that leg, I don't know when you'll be able to stand and take a bath!'' Ehlen didn't bother trying to contradict her and began wiping his hair. ''And next time, don't get yourself beat up so bad. You make her worry and sneak out of his place, she might get hurt.''

''Crescent knows how dangerous it is. She won't do it again.''

''Wishful thinking, Ehlen.'', she retorted and started hitting some herbs inside the mortar with unjustified force. ''She wants to see you so bad, and you show up in that state. Don't make the poor child cry again.''

''I told you, I've been through worse. You're only strict with me.'', he said calmly. ''I faced a powerful opponent today. A man in black armour......''

Serena dropped the pestle. ''Black Blade Adonis?!'', she exclaimed. ''You faced him?!''

''Black Blade Adonis? That's his name?''

''More like his title.'', she answered and picked up the pestle. ''I went to Dipan's encampment to pick some herbs and I heard that red-haired woman call him that. She said he's very powerful and he's wiped out many of our troops. And a mercenary, like you.''

''It seems I've found myself a powerful opponent, after all.'', commented Ehlen and stared deep into space. It was getting quiet around the camp now. No more soldiers were coming in.

''You're planning to fight him again?! You're not insane, are you? The man is a beast. He kills anything he finds indiscriminately!''

''You don't think I'll just retreat, do you?'', he retorted and shot a glare at her. ''Besides, death is indiscriminate for anyone. We'll all end up dead by someone's hand in war.''

''By the gods, are you trying to meet a Valkyrie early?'', she said and sat down. She left the mortar, now filled with some yellow liquid, next to him. The herbs she had crushed together should help him heal faster.

''Gods?'', he said sarcastically. ''What Gods would let such atrocities happen? We are barely managing to stand, even with Dipan, Paltierre and Lassen together. The forces they sent are just too little. Gerabellum could soon fall. We're at war here, despite what they say. And the Gods won't help us-''

''Ehlen!'', she shouted in warning. ''That's blasphemy!''

''Maybe, but look at what happened today!!!'', he retorted angrily. ''We barely made it! And Crescent, too! She lost her parents! Where were the Gods then?! And where are they-UGH!!''

Ehlen wanted to keep shouting these things, but it was impossible in his weakened state. He clutched his chest in pain and almost ripped some of his stitches. Serena would love to scold him and tell him those things were blaspheming and terrible, but she couldn't risk his health. She helped him lie on the bed properly and forced him to drink her herb mixture.

''I just hope I don't get to see Crescent crying again, like the day you brought her here. The child is fond of you.'', she said, when Ehlen was gulping down the liquid and couldn't answer without choking. ''Don't let your moniker get to your head, Demigod Ehlen.''

She left Ehlen to his rest and decided to go out and get some air. She had been told to go and help Paltierre's troops when she was done with Ehlen. A grand fire was burning in the middle of the encampment. In other times, she would think it was some adventurers camping, roasting hunted animals. But this was not a fire were one could hope to cook. It was a grieving furnace, burning human bodies that could not be buried, humans that no one would mourn, simply because there was no time and more would die soon.

''Will Camille Hill be painted scarlet again?''

''Could the Gods really have forsaken us?''

And the night was spent in a forlorn silence.

* * *

**_A/N: _**All places mentioned are in accordance with the map in Valkyrie Profile: Lenneth. Or....at least as much as I could get them.

**_Disclaimer_**: I do not own Valkyrie Profile.

* * *


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